


It's 3am and We Must Be Lonely

by monicawoe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amusement Parks, M/M, Motorcycles, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, super-soldiers need some downtime too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4782503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monicawoe/pseuds/monicawoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky go on a motorcycle ride to Coney Island in the middle of the night. The amusement parks are closed but that doesn't keep them from having some much-needed fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's 3am and We Must Be Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [petite-madame](http://petite-madame.tumblr.com/),  
> Inspired by [this piece](http://petite-madame.tumblr.com/post/84159720061/like-in-the-good-old-days-stevebucky-photoshop) and one part of [this one](http://petite-madame.tumblr.com/post/118705851071/heres-typically-the-kind-of-art-that-doesnt-make).

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist, and held on more tightly as they rounded the corner. The motorcycle rumbled comfortably between his thighs as Bucky headed up the on-ramp. There weren't nearly as many others on the highway this late at night. It was, Steve imagined, one of the reasons Bucky stuck to late night excursions; though he was slowly getting more comfortable around crowds, fewer people were always better. Steve agreed with that sentiment. Maybe he didn't admit it as often, but he'd take a night like this alone with Bucky over one of Tony's parties any day.

This motorcycle was Bucky's favorite. They'd found it in a shop not too far from their apartment, labeled "vintage." A Harley from 1983—black leather and chrome Bucky'd polished back up to a bright gleam.

The engine growled as they headed onto the Belt Parkway. Steve rested his head on Bucky's shoulder and looked out at the water, the reflections of the light left wavering stars in the murky black below. They'd driven down here before, decades ago. The first time was in 1940. _Bucky's uncle Jay lived out in Queens, but he came down to stay with the Barnes' one summer and brought his motorcycle with him._

Steve still remembered Bucky's face when he'd rolled up in front of Steve's apartment, proud and preening like he'd built the damn thing himself.

"Wanna go for a ride?"

Steve grabbed his jacket and raced down the stairs so fast he nearly tripped. He climbed on behind Bucky, the forced closeness of the ride making him happier than he'd been in weeks. His lungs protested the fumes from the idling motor, but Steve kept his coughing to a minimum, and the air got better as soon as they started to move.

"Hold on," Bucky said as they wobbled down Steve's street, and Steve did.

Within the first five minutes Steve regretted going. The motorcycle looked sturdy enough, but it felt like it was gonna shake apart every time they drove over cobblestone. He found though, that if he lifted himself just a little, leaned against Bucky more, he could reduce the impact. Until they hit a bump. By the time they got to the highway, Steve was sure his tailbone had cracked.

Once they made it to the Parkway though, the road smoothed out; then Bucky shifted in his seat, and the motion made Steve forget all about his pain.

#

The buildings looked different now, but bits of the boardwalk still looked the same. There was a still a Nathan's, though Steve could swear it'd been in a different spot, and the Cyclone was still there. Worse for wear, but still standing.

They walked along the boardwalk and down onto the sand. Bucky sat cross-legged by the remnants of an old pier, and Steve joined him, shucking off his shoes so he could feel the sand between his toes. It was silent except for the soft whirring of Bucky's arm and the lapping of the waves. Steve took Bucky's hand in his and closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet.

Steve didn't sleep much, didn't have to. Before Bucky came back he often wanted to, but couldn't. But with Bucky's chest pressed against him, Steve could fall asleep in seconds. It didn't matter where they were--here on the beach, in the Avengers tower, or in their apartment off of DeKalb.

Bucky shifted behind him, making an almost imperceptible sound. One Steve was attuned to, one he'd known since they were kids. Bucky was happy but bored.

"Ready to head back?" Steve asked.

"No."

"We don't have to." Steve said. "We don't have to go back at all, you know."

"I know." Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve, pulled him in close and kissed the top of his head. "Still smells the same here."

"Cotton candy, funnel cake, wet wood and the ocean," Steve mumbled. "Nothing like it."

"Wonder Wheel's still there."

"So's the Cyclone." He turned to look at Bucky, his blue eyes grey in the dark. "Wanna go?"

Bucky shrugged, non-committal, but peered over his shoulder at the boardwalk. "Yeah. Next week?"

"Why wait?" Steve asked, climbing to his feet. He stuck his hand down to Bucky, who stared up at him, dubious expression giving way to a knowing smirk.

#

"We didn't think this through all the way," Bucky said looking up at the Wonder Wheel.

"Need somebody to make the stuff go," Steve said as they walked on through the empty park, looking at the closed rides and booths.

"Not for everything." Bucky stepped up to one of the booths and slipped two of his metal fingers under the slide gate, pushing until the steel had dented, just enough for him to force the gate open. When he got it high enough, he hopped up on top of the counter and shoved it the rest of the way up.

Steve leaned over the counter, flicked on the light-switch and snorted when he saw the booth Bucky had unveiled. "Target practice? Really?"

Bucky nodded at the wall of stuffed animals. " Don't worry. I'll win you something good."

"You know, we already broke in, you could just—"

Bucky aimed the little air-rifle and pulled the trigger, hitting every one of the four target discs dead in the center.

"Way too easy," Steve said. "That gets you at best one of the little yellow things on the lower shelf."

"You deserve something from the top pegs." Bucky pointed up at the giant sheep, bear, elephant and monkey hanging at the very top. "What do I gotta do to win one of those?"

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills then lifted up the corner of the cash register and stuck them under it.

Bucky scoffed. "No way any of the stuff here's worth that much."

Steve shrugged. "The gate is." He put his hand on the counter, jumped over it, into the booth and grabbed one of the gaudy sleeveless shirts hanging on the right side. It read 'Sun's Out, Guns Out,' in big block letters.

"Anyway I said I want to win you something, not--"

"I know." Steve tore the shirt in two and held one of the strips up in front of Bucky, grinning. "We need to make it a little bit harder first." Steve took a step closer and wrapped the strip around Bucky's eyes.

"Easy," Bucky said.

"Wait." Steve took Bucky by the waist and turned him around until his back was facing the booth.

"Really?" Bucky asked, chuckling.

"Hey if I'm not worth a top peg prize, I understand, but you could at least make the effort."

Bucky flipped the air-rifle in his grip and fired four more times.

#

"You're really gonna make me carry this all night?" Steve asked.

"Make you? I won that for you. It's a token of my love."

Steve stared at the sheep. It was kind of cute, Steve had to admit, with its floppy ears and big round eyes. "What am I supposed to do with a giant plush sheep?"

"That's between you and the sheep," Bucky said, scanning the other nearby booths. "Hey, that one's not even locked up." He walked towards the Hi-Striker-- two towers, the shorter one for kids.

"You're kidding." Steve looked at the tower and its ranks. "The hammers aren't even out here."

"Nope. Guess we'll have to improvise." Bucky squatted down next to the pedestal on the taller tower and pushed with his right hand. The puck climbed up to 'Popeye.'

"Move it," Steve said, setting the sheep down on the ground.

Bucky obliged, stepping out of the way as Steve laced his hands in front of him and stretched, cracking his knuckles. "You ready?"

Bucky's mouth curved into a smile that grew wider as Steve shook his hands out, jogged a few steps back and then leapt forward into a handspring, landing in a one-armed handstand on top of the narrow platform. The puck rose nearly all the way up, just past 'wack it'. Steve jumped back onto his feet. "Beat that!"

"Pff," Bucky said, taking a few steps back himself. He ran straight forward, then, last minute, jumped up into a side-spiral landing with his left hand on the platform. The bell rose all the way up to 'Hit Me,' sounding a ding.

He let his feet drop, and stood, tossing Steve a wink before he bumped him with his shoulder.

Steve went back a few more yards that time and jumped up into a mid-air somersault, landing upright directly on the platform, balanced on one foot . The ringer shot all the way up, through the bell and flew right out of the tower.

Bucky guffawed, and clapped his hands together as Steve cursed under his breath.

"I think you broke it," Bucky said, once he caught his breath.

"You think?" Steve asked and peered down at the sagging platform. The foam had been flattened and had a heavy Steve's-boot shaped dent in it. "Oops," Steve said.

"You gonna stick some bills under that too?" Bucky asked.

"No, I think I'm gonna send them an anonymous donation and some flowers."

"Well in that case, we'd better wreck some more stuff."

"We're not here to wreck stuff!"

"We're not?"

"We're here to relax."

"Wrecking stuff can be very relaxing."

Steve looked up at the tower and back over his shoulder at the target booth. "We're the worst."

"We're a couple of ninety-five year old hooligans, letting off steam."

With a sigh, Steve plopped to the ground. This wasn't exactly how he'd thought it would go.

Bucky sat down behind him, and put his hands on Steve's shoulders. "I can think of better ways to let off steam," he said, kissing Steve on the neck.

Steve leaned against him, letting his head fall back, so Bucky could get down lower, to that sweet spot right by his shoulder. A noise escaped him as blood rushed down to his cock and he tried to get himself to pull away, but his brain wasn't listening.

Bucky pulled him back further and brought them both to the ground, rolling Steve over onto his back. He straddled him, pants straining.

"Not here," Steve got out.

"Why not? Nobody around." Bucky leaned in closer, rocking his hips suggestively.

Steve flipped them over and sat back on his heels. "Because I don't feel like trying to get sand out of my ass crack for the next two days. " Steve stood and picked up the sheep, setting it on his shoulders.

"Fine." Bucky stood, brushed the sand off his pants and followed Steve. He stopped in front of the Wonder Wheel. "You really did love that thing. I can—I can still remember the look on your face."

"Great view." Steve said, smiling as he looked up at the Ferris wheel. Bucky's memory was mostly back, but many of the little details were still missing. The fact that he remembered this made it even more important, somehow. "Let's come back again when we can ride it, then. We can go during the week, when there aren't as many people. Maybe..." Steve's voice trailed off when he realized Bucky was no longer next to him.

Steve spun around, scanning the amusement park in every direction. Bucky could vanish at a moment's notice, and had done so before, but not recently—not unless something was wrong. Steve's heart started to pound. They had enemies everywhere, and some of them could move without ever being seen and damn it why hadn't he been paying attention. "Buck?"

With a heavy, electric buzz, the lights of the wheel came on. "Wahoo!" Bucky crowed, as he came around the corner. "Found the right breaker."

Steve looked up at the wheel, in all its glory, and could feel the grin spread across his face. "I think somebody's gonna notice this."

"Yeah," Bucky slapped him on the shoulder. "We better get a move on then." He headed to the control-booth. Steve followed him, but they couldn't both fit in the slim wooden shed. "Get on," Bucky said.

"But how are you gonna-"

"Will you just get--" Bucky shooed him towards the seats.

Steve climbed into the waiting car, stuck the sheep on the seat next to him, and less than five seconds later felt the wheel start to turn. "Nicely done!"

"Yeah now I just gotta...ah here we go."

Something made a loud cracking noise, but Steve couldn't see what exactly Bucky had done. A few seconds later Bucky came out and gave Steve a quick thumbs up.

"Yeah great plan," Steve yelled down. "Except for how I'm now all the way up here. You're gonna have to hop in on the next round."

Bucky cocked his head to the side.

Steve chuckled as he turned back to the front and looked out at Coney Island, spread out below him. This had always been one of his favorite vantage points. A lot had changed—more lights, more houses, but a lot of it was familiar too. He let his eyes blur, until he could see the park and boardwalk from his memories start to shine through.

A clank from his left drew his attention. He peered over the side to see Bucky climbing the wheel. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" Bucky muttered. He scaled the wire framework of the wheel with practiced ease, grabbed hold of the side of the carriage, pulled himself up and over and sidled up next to Steve, squashing the sheep between them,

They sat in comfortable silence as the Ferris wheel turned its wide, lazy loop. "This is great," Steve said after a few trips around.

"Glad I thought of it," Bucky said, settling back further into the seat. He stretched his arm out, and Steve leaned into it, letting his eyes drift again as they went up and down, up and down.

"We should do this again," Steve mumbled.

"Breaking and entering?"

"Spend a night out together. Just us." He laced his fingers through Bucky's.

Bucky suddenly sat up ramrod straight. "Hold that thought."

A second later Steve heard it too. Police sirens. "Guess they saw the wheel."

"Gee, you think?"

#

Ten blocks away from the amusement park, Steve started laughing. Harder than he had in months. He laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes, so hard he had to stop running. His heart was racing with the pure thrill of being alive and with Bucky, near to bursting with joy so strong it was painful. Bucky, a few feet ahead, stopped running and turned towards him, grinning himself. "Just like old times, huh?"

"Better. Back then I couldn't get away as easily."

"We're not in the clear yet." Bucky pointed towards a street ahead. "Move your ass, Rogers."

Steve shook his head, tucked the sheep back under his arm and fell into step beside Bucky.

They'd parked the motorcycle off the main strip, down a side street. Bucky climbed on and started the engine, Steve got on behind him, and was still trying to figure out where to stash the stuffed sheep when Bucky started driving. He finally settled on shoving it under the strap in the back they used to tie down supplies, oddly concerned whether it would fly off once they hit the highway.

They heard sirens again, six blocks away, maybe less. But Bucky wove through the side-streets like only a local could. The night had left him feeling happier than he'd been in years. Having Bucky back had made Steve feel complete again, but seeing him smile—that was everything. The motorcycle thrummed beneath them and Steve let his head drop back down, breathed in the scent of Bucky and held on tighter as he let his eyes drift shut. Here, he felt peace, here, he felt whole, and it didn't matter where they were headed, as long as they went there together.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I kinda smushed Deno's Kiddie Park and Luna Park together for storytelling purposes. Please forgive me ; )


End file.
